


Holding Pattern

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: In the Silence and the Dark [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don’t copy to another site, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: Obi-Wan returns from Mandalore with Satine, and reports the disappearance of Qui-Gon Jinn to the Jedi Council, three months after he's vanished. A month later, Quinlan Vos returns from the mission to find the missing Jedi with a location.





	Holding Pattern

**Author's Note:**

> The follows Descent, in which Qui-Gon Jinn is taken by a Sith Lord to be tortured and broken. That story takes place over the course of four months, and the end of it is approximately a week before the end of this story.

"... I thought it best to return to Coruscant and request guidance." Obi-Wan hadn't taken the time to even change out of the armor that had bought him the time to find passage off Mandalore with Satine, and gotten them free of the once-more escalating conflict. Only held the helmet in his hands as he told the Council about the disaster the mission had become.

There is silence all around him, even as the Force ripples a little with shock. Obi-Wan is too tired and unsettled to wonder at the Council showing so much a reaction to the disappearance of his Master. He idly prods at the spot in his mind where his bond to Qui-Gon should be, the dull ache of the emptiness not even enough to spark a little more energy. Drawing a deep breath, he pulls on the Force a little to help him stay on his feet until the Council is done with him.

"Thank you for your report, Padawan Kenobi." Master Windu sounds no more ruffled than he ever does, and that helps, even if Obi-Wan still can't settle. "Return to your quarters, and rest. If we have further questions, we will ask you tomorrow."

Obi-Wan bows, a small flush of gratitude worming its way past the exhaustion, and gladly leaves the council chamber. He prefers when missions don't go so pear-shaped as to require this kind of immediate report, and he can submit his report primarily in writing. Even if many of them involve talking to at least one council member later.

It takes him entering the code for the quarters he shares with Qui-Gon twice to get the door open, and once the door shuts, he stands there a moment, staring blindly at the room. It's not entirely familiar, after nearly a year on Mandalore, never being able to stay in one place. Three long months without even his Master, and barely any sleep. Obi-Wan isn't certain quite how he succeeded in getting himself and Satine safely off the planet, much less back to the Temple for help.

He blinks what seems only a few seconds later, taking a long moment to recognize his view as the ceiling, and the upper cabinets of the tiny kitchen seen over the counter that divides it from the rest of the room. Shrouded in shadows, though it's not dark enough to be night.

His head aches, as does his right side. Obi-Wan rolls onto his back, letting out a soft hiss as edges of the armor dig into his skin despite the padding of the underlayer. Watching the ceiling for a moment before he tries to sit up. It takes a little more effort than he's expecting, and he has to put out a hand to steady himself against the wall under the counter once he's sitting up.

Looking over toward the small window that lets in light, it takes Obi-Wan a moment to process that the dim light is dawn, not dusk, pale sunlight just touching the upper part of the window, and he starts, flinching away from the idea that he's been passed out in front of the door all night, and no one has checked on him. No one would know that he needed checked on. Wouldn't know he hadn't slept since leaving Mandalore, not trusting anyone to watch over Satine until they were at the Temple.

Obi-Wan gets to his feet using the counter to support his weight, and lurches for the fresher. The armor is left in a pile outside the door, what remains of his tunics is shoved down the laundry chute for the droids to clean or destroy as they saw fit. It's good to have a chance to do more than a swift wash in cold water, the first time he's been able to do so since a month after they'd landed on Mandalore.

There is a single spare set of tunics left in his clothes press, and it takes a long moment for Obi-Wan to realize that his tunics are too short, though he's glad they're not too tight across his shoulders. He'll have to ask Qui-Gon to requisition new tunics for him.

He sits on the bed with a thump, letting out a long breath. He can't ask Qui-Gon to requisition new tunics. Or a new cloak, to replace the one that's somewhere in the mud on Mandalore. Either he has to convince the quarter master to allow him to get new ones without Qui-Gon's authorization, or he'll have to ask someone else to do so in Qui-Gon's stead. Obi-Wan doesn't know which sounds more daunting at the moment, or overwhelming.

Taking a deep breath, he reaches for the Force, closing his eyes as he tries to let the spike of grief go. He doesn't know that Qui-Gon is dead. Just missing. He could come walking in tomorrow, and there would be no need for grief. No need to ask him why he'd left Obi-Wan alone and stranded in the middle of a war-zone with a young politician to protect.

Another deep breath, to keep from sobbing, and he shoves to his feet, taking the step over to his desk, and the com embedded in it for in-Temple communications. His usual one is, like his cloak, lost to the conflict on Mandalore. There is a brief message waiting for him, from the Healers informing him he needs to make an appointment to see them today, or they will come to him. He ignores it for now - he has no injuries that need any immediate attention - and coms Master Tahl.

"Obi-Wan." There's relief in Master Tahl's voice when she answers, and Obi-Wan wonders if she'd been worried about him. "I was about to come over and check on you. I was expecting you to call last night."

"My apologies, Master Tahl. I fell asleep very shortly after returning to my quarters, and have only just awoken." It was something like sleeping, anyway. He does feel less like he's been trampled by a herd of banthas, even if nothing else seems to have improved between passing out and this morning's shower. "I need to ask a favor?"

"You can always ask, Obi-Wan." He can hear the smile in Master Tahl's voice, and it draws an answering one of his own.

"My Master is—" missing, possibly dead, not in any shape to replace Obi-Wan's too-small clothing, "—not able to requisition new tunics for me, and I found the ones I had left here are too short."

"Do you need a new cloak as well?"

Obi-Wan ducks his head, even though there's no one to see him do so but himself. "New everything, probably. I don't remember where I lost my cloak, and my comlink is with my boots." He can use the ones from the armor for now, but he should have proper boots to go with the rest.

"Which aren't here, I take it." Master Tahl sounds amused. "I'll escort you down to the quarter master and tell him to take it up with Qui-Gon when he returns."

Obi-Wan isn't certain how he gets out a thank you, and closes the connection, before he sits heavily on his bed once more. Not if Qui-Gon returns, and to Obi-Wan, that feels truly an if, not a when as Master Tahl said. He doesn't even know what happened to his Master, only that Qui-Gon vanished, both from their hiding place over night, and in the Force. Not dead, not the gaping, ragged end of the training bond, but missing, the bond running into some barrier that Obi-Wan flinches from. Ice and durasteel, burning cold as space.

* * *

Satine has just sat down to start scrubbing the muck off the armor she'd arrived here in - oh, how she wishes it had not been needed, but better to wear what the hated stuff than to die - when the door chimes. She hopes it's Obi-Wan, after the distinct impression of unwelcome she'd gotten from the Jedi who'd escorted her to these rooms.

The Jedi on the other side of the door is not Obi-Wan, and Satine wonders if he's ever smiled in his life, so still and forbidding was his expression. "Duchess Kryze. May I come in?"

At least he's polite, and Satine gives him a diplomatic smile, stepping back from the door to let him step inside. Watching his face as he looks over the armor she's spread out on the floor, the better to have an idea how much work she might have to keep her busy until someone came. She doesn't dare try to contact anyone at home, and put them in danger, and there is no one on Coruscant she has the code to contact with.

The Jedi takes the chair, leaving her the couch, folding his hands into the sleeves of his cloak. "Please, sit down."

Satine hesitates a moment before she does as asked, watching the Jedi as he watches her, the silence stretching out uncomfortably between them.

"What do you remember of the days leading up to the disappearance of Master Jinn?"

It's to be an interrogation, then. Satine takes a deep breath, almost glad it's just that. She's not sure what she'd do with sympathy right now, for all that she's glad for the meager hospitality she's been given.

"They weren't really any different from the ones before. Hiding where we could, while Master Jinn looked for supplies and for safe places to attempt to negotiate from. He was trying to bring the other factions to a peace table." Not that he'd had much luck, and Satine wonders how it is he was the best negotiator that could be sent to help end the civil war that has torn her world and her people apart.

"Did you notice anyone who didn't belong, anything that might be considered unusual?"

Satine lets out a brief, sharp laugh. "I was the unusual one, unarmored and escorted by two Jedi. I didn't see anyone else without armor until we left Mandalore." Until Obi-Wan had argued her into armor, had dressed in it himself to get her safe off the planet. Leave Death Watch and the Mand'alor to destroy everything about their world between them.

"And the day Master Jinn vanished?"

"Like every day before." Pushing back to her feet, Satine paces between the pieces of armor on the floor, trying to remember anything beyond the ever-present cold, the fear, the frustration. The surprise and unexpected spike of absolute terror when she'd woken to find she had only one protector. Jinn had never left before both she and Obi-Wan were awake.

"It was colder that night. Obi-Wan wrapped me in his cloak, but neither of us could get warm. Master Jinn lent his cloak, as well, and Obi-Wan and I shared our blankets." It had been the only way to stay warm enough to sleep. "He said he'd sleep in the morning, the Force would keep him safe through the night."

* * *

Mace doesn't let more than a brief frown cross his face. Obi-Wan had also mentioned that Qui-Gon had left his cloak with him and Satine, though he'd mentioned also that his Master had been on edge that evening - and that Obi-Wan himself had been uneasy about something for the week before. Never able to pin-point why he was feeling uneasy, like something was just on the edges of his awareness of the future. He hadn't slept that night, but he still hadn't noticed anything amiss until morning, and that doesn't bode well.

Neither do the words the young Duchess has repeated just now. Why would Qui-Gon say safe when none of them knew of any heightened risk of danger beyond the unusual cold?

"After you went to sleep, did you wake up before morning?" Mace doesn't expect an affirmative, after Obi-Wan's report, but he has to ask, has to know if there's anything else that can be discovered about how Qui-Gon vanished.

"No." The Duchess radiates frustration, though her expression barely shows any of it. "I don't remember anything else until I woke in the morning, and Master Jinn was gone."

Nothing. No struggle to wake her, or alert Obi-Wan, no warning along the training bond that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon shared, no one strange enough to stick out to either of the younger two either leading up to or after Qui-Gon vanished.

"Thank you, Duchess Kryze." Mace stands, tilting his head politely to her.

"Master Jedi, wait a moment. Please." The Duchess gives him a smile that looks more a grimace for all the tension still radiating off her. "Where should I go to find a meal?"

Or anything else, Mace suspects she's asking, as well. What she should do, when she has nothing and no one to turn to, as far as Mace is aware. "I'll send one of the Initiates to show you to a cafeteria."

He's not sure what to do about the Duchess, with the conflict on Mandalore spreading, and worsening. There will be more Jedi sent to try to contain the brewing war, to attempt to bring a peaceful conclusion to the conflict, but until then, Duchess Kryze's situation is uncertain.

"I'll inform you when the Council reaches a decision about what to do about the Mandalorian Civil War." Once that is done, the Duchess will have to decide what she wants to do, if she wishes to continue to seek sanctuary here, and leave her fate in the hands of the Jedi Council, or to return home, or some other path.

"Thank you."

* * *

"I need you to go to Mandalore, and find where Master Jinn went missing from." Mace looks at each of the three he's called to his quarters to ask this for a long moment. "This is not a mission on the record."

They'd have to inform the Senate, sooner or later, about the mission if it were to be an official one. Mace has a strong feeling that this would not be ideal, and for now, he can keep the mission off the books. Especially with those he's chosen to ask.

"Do you want regular reports, or are we running silent until we have something to show for our trouble?" Vinris is watching her companions for this mission out of the corner of her eye, and Mace can feel her concern for taking a Padawan on this sort of mission. Even a Padawan who's been following his Master into similar sorts of danger since he was cleared for field missions.

"Silent, I think." Tholme lets a wry smile curl up the corner of his mouth a moment. "I don't think it's going to be safe to be known as Jedi going in, or to be talking to Jedi."

Letting out a small chuff of laughter, Vinris tilts her head in acknowledgement.

Mace nods in agreement. "I want you to find out if there's anything left there to tell you who or what took Master Jinn, and where he is. If you find him, report back before trying to rescue him."

"We'll send Quinlan back with what we find when we deem it better not to have a Padawan in the line of fire." Tholme meets Mace's gaze readily when Mace gives him an irritated glare. "You're not going to stop us from rescuing Qui-Gon if we find him."

"I don't need to have three Jedi Masters missing." Mace holds Tholme's gaze, crossing his arms. "If you find him, don't go charging in before you have backup."

"That's no fun." Vinris grins when Mace turns his glare on her. "You asked us for a reason, Mace, and I doubt it's for our investigative abilities."

"Perhaps not, but I don't have the resources to keep sending teams to rescue those who went before them." Mace folds his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "Once you have located Master Jinn, I need to know how much backup to send to get him out."

"What aren't you telling us, Mace?" Tholme frowns a little when Mace shakes his head. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know. All Kenobi and Kryze were able to say is it was cold, and they noticed nothing." Mace would go himself, to see if there's anything left of a shatter-point on Mandalore, but he can't afford to leave right now. That much he's certain of. But he can spare a Shadow, a Padawan with psychometry, and one of the more bloody-minded Jedi Masters he knows.

The frowns he gets from Vinris and Tholme about what little information there is about Qui-Gon disappearing echo his own feelings on the matter.

"You'll leave tonight." Mace stands, bowing slightly to them as they do the same. "May the Force be with you."

* * *

Obi-Wan is listening to Satine planning her return to Mandalore when the first wave of cold washes over him, leaving him shivering and disoriented, and blinking at the ceiling in consternation. He can hear Satine as if at a distance, calling for help, and he tries to tell her he's fine. Except the words won't come.

There are hands warm on his shoulders, as he's lifted a little so his head is resting on something other than the floor. A lap, he thinks. Satine's lap? He blinks again, trying to focus on her face. She's worried, frowning. How long did that wave of cold last? It had only felt like a moment.

Satine is saying something, but he can't make out what it is as cold seeps into his bones, creeping outward until he's shivering hard enough it hurts. Obi-Wan doesn't know how long it takes him to figure out the cold is radiating from the training bond that is the only way he's been certain Qui-Gon isn't dead. A bond that feels strange when he touches it, though he cannot put words to what is different about it.

There's activity all around him, but Obi-Wan barely registers it, focusing on the bond with his master, trying to reach out along it again. Still finding that same barrier, but this time he doesn't flinch away, for all the cold that radiates from it. Trying to find an edge to it, trying to focus his will to burn through it like he would take a lightsaber to a locked door.

He can feel hands on him, pulling him away, wrapping him up in a warmth that feels barely more than skin-deep, and light that doesn't illuminate nearly as much as it ought. Drawing him back to the physical world, though that doesn't improve much. He's still cold to the bone, and he can't focus on anything or anyone. Can hear the babble of voices, but can't make out anything that is being said.

How long it is before things start to make sense, he doesn't know, though when they do, he's no longer in the guest quarters that Satine has been living in for nearly a month now, but in the Healer's Ward. The ceiling is entirely too familiar from the weeks after previous missions.

Obi-Wan reaches for the bond with Qui-Gon, almost instinctively, and finds... nothing. No ragged edges, no icy barrier, just. Nothing.

"Breathe, Obi-Wan." There's a warm hand on his shoulder, and a familiar voice speaking that it takes a moment to identify as Master Tahl. "It's still there. Just shielded."

"Why?" Obi-Wan almost can't hear himself speak, his voice is so quiet, and no little rough. As if he's been screaming, though his throat doesn't hurt as much as he'd expect if he had been.

"Because you fought it being removed, even though it was killing you." Master Tahl moves her hand, helping him to sit up slowly, and holding a cup of water for him to sip once he's settled against pillows. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Obi-Wan tries to reach up to take the cup himself, but his hands are splinted and bandaged, and he frowns. "What happened to my hands?"

"You broke several bones in them. The healers aren't certain how, though there are apparently several possibilities." Master Tahl sets the cup down on the table next to the bed once he's drained it. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up?"

Obi-Wan hesitates, trying to remember what was before trying to burn through whatever was blocking the training bond on Qui-Gon's end. Trying and failing to rip it apart to get to his Master, whatever was happening to him. Whatever was making the bond feel like ice.

"I was listening to Satine. It was suddenly very cold, and I was staring at the ceiling." Obi-Wan shrugs, shaking his head a little, before squeezing his eyes shut. He hadn't expected that to make his head swim.

"What else?" Master Tahl sounds utterly certain there's more, and Obi-Wan wonders how badly he's shielding if she knows that.

"The training bond felt like ice." His voice comes out as a whisper, and he keeps his eyes shut, not wanting to see the expression on Master Tahl's face. "It's felt like that since he disappeared. Like there's a wall of ice and durasteel blocking it."

Master Tahl wraps one hand around his forearm, squeezing tightly. Reminding him of the here and now, that he is not alone, that the training bond isn't pouring ice into his bones. That it's not even there, as far as he can tell. He wonders if Qui-Gon can feel the bond from his end. If he can feel the shield that's been put between them. Shields.

He reaches for the bond again, even knowing he won't be able to feel it. Nothing but a blankness that feels less like absence than it did when he first woke here. It's still a horrible feeling, to be so utterly cut off from Qui-Gon; worse, in some ways, than to have a small pocket of ice always at the back of his mind. At least then he could tell that Qui-Gon was alive.

"Someone's shielding him from the bond on his end, aren't they?" It's the only thing he can think of, because he can't imagine Qui-Gon blocking him like that.

"Possibly." Master Tahl squeezes his arm again. "We won't know until we find him."

"Find him, and bring him home." Obi-Wan can't bring himself to care about more than that right now. If he can't have the certainty of knowing Qui-Gon's alive because of the training bond, he wants to see his Master alive and well with his own eyes.

* * *

Quinlan has not felt this ill at what he knows in a long time. Not since Tholme brought him to the Temple. And even then, at least the worst of the cruelty had been death. Not. Not the things that lurked in the shadows of the complex where Jinn was being held, or even in the little shuttle they'd stolen from one of the smugglers who ran supplies to the moon the complex was on.

He shivers as he lands the shuttle at the Temple, glad it's his job to come back and report to Windu, and not to stay on the moon with one of the others. Even if he'd had to stay in this shuttle so not to lose any time getting back, rather than abandoning it and taking commercial transports back to Coruscant the way they'd traveled to Mandalore.

As soon as the engines have cycled off, Quinlan bolts for the main hatch, barely giving the ramp time to begin to lower before he all but throws himself out of the shuttle. Ignoring the techs approaching him, even ignoring the waiting figure that he thinks is Windu, in favor of stumbling far enough away that he feels safe collapsing to his knees.

His stomach is heaving, though nothing comes up - Quinlan isn't sure when he last ate, but it was before they'd stolen the shuttle. Several days, at least. It's been hard enough to get himself just to drink water, much less to eat anything in the atmosphere of the shuttle.

Quinlan twitches when a hand is placed on his shoulder, reaching for his light saber before he aborts the motion. Holding very still until he's sure he can look up without following the movement with a snatch at his weapon. Meeting Windu's gaze with a small, apologetic smile.

"Will you be all right, Padawan Vos?" Windu's voice is steady and calm, though Quinlan is almost certain there's a thread of worry in his Force-presence.

"So long as I don't have to get back in that shuttle or go back to the moon where Master Tholme and Master Rish found Master Jinn." Quinlan would like to help with the rescue, but he doesn't think he can go back there right now. Not without at least a week of being here, and there isn't that much time. "I have coordinates. There's something very wrong there, Master Windu."

Something corrupted and cruel that makes him want to scrub the inside of his skull. Even the places he usually goes with Tholme, dark as they are, don't feel like this.

Windu offers him a hand to help him to his feet, holding his steady when he sways, before frowning at him. "When is the last time you ate, Padawan?"

"A week ago?" Quinlan isn't certain. "I'm supposed to give you a report, Master Windu."

Windu shakes his head, and escorts Quinlan first to the commissary, making sure he eats a meal, before he's willing to hear Quinlan's report. In his office, so a little closer to a formal mission, now that they have a place to go looking. To go rescue Jinn from.

* * *

Mace gives the Council Vos's report, the information relayed from Tholme and Vinris worrying. A Dark Force-user who has taken a Jedi without any concerns that they'll be caught, and who took one of the better duelists of the Order without any apparent difficulty, or struggle. Who is holding Jinn deeply enough in his compound that while they're certain he's there, they haven't actually seen him. Only heard the servants whisper of a Jedi being in with their master, and their relief that it is someone else in that position, and not any of them.

They need to send others to help Tholme and Vinris, and Mace has a few in mind, provided he can convince the Council this requires more than the two already there. Perhaps even if he can't - Mace doubts it will take more than informing Masters Dooku and Giett to convince them to gather the others he has in mind to take on the rescue mission of their own volition.

He suspects there would be more arguing if he'd chosen anyone else for this mission, and the debate over what the actual nature is of the place Tholme and Vinris had found is enough to make his head ache. It takes all day to get a team agreed on to take care of the Dark Force-user and rescue Jinn. A few more than Mace intended, himself included, but it will be good to get into the field again for at least a mission.

When the others are gathered together, and informed of the mission, there are frowns all around, and solemn agreement that this must be done. Dooku shares a look with Feemor, and Feemor's newly-knighted Padawan, the three silently agreeing on something. Mace doesn't want to know, not until after the mission is done.

The shuttle Vos brought back is the one they're using to transport them to the moon. It hasn't been touched except to refuel since Vos stumbled off it, and radiates the same chill evil that it had before. Mace knows it was supposed to be just a smuggler's shuttle, but the impressions that roll off it make him wonder if the Dark Force-user they're going after hadn't used it himself more than once.

"Once we arrive, we make contact with Tholme and Rish before making any assault or rescue attempt." Mace looks around at the faces of the other Jedi, reminding them of what they have of a plan.

"May the Force be with us." That's Olwin, the youngest of this group, and Mace hopes that her words are prophetic, despite the bad feeling he has as he turns to board the shuttle.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in nine parts on Tumblr, 1-11 May 2017.


End file.
